


Painting the World

by GlitterAndDoom



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: M/M, Makeup, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-10 07:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterAndDoom/pseuds/GlitterAndDoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Adam puts makeup on Sauli, he realizes just how head-over-heels he is for this guy, and Sauli's determined to drive him even crazier. Adam's perfectly okay with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painting the World

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the glam_kink prompt: "Since it doesn't seem like Sauli really wore makeup before Adam... and we have this pic: http://yfrog.com/5pubcyj
> 
> First time Adam put makeup on Sauli? ^^
> 
> And yes, I want it to be a ~thing for Adam, please."
> 
> I've been sitting on this thing for way too long. And I ended up thinking more of [this picture](http://i46.tinypic.com/1zxnngi.jpg) instead. Who knows how many times those two have played dress-up, anyway...

Adam sets up the last of his supplies, ignoring the insistent ache of his cock, and turns to study his canvas.

He loves Sauli's face. To him, it is a work of art already—sculpted cheekbones curving sharply beneath tan and freckled skin, big blue eyes gone dark with want, full lips flushed red from lengthy kisses. But even when they're precious treasures, Adam still likes to play with beautiful things and beautiful men—especially when they're his—and he's been waiting for this for a while.

That Sauli suggested this himself makes it even better.

He cups Sauli's cheek in his palm, _needing_ to touch. "Look at you," Adam whispers, examining, analyzing, planning. "You don't need any makeup—you're so gorgeous."

"I know," Sauli says, and there's that bright, saucy smile and teasing tone that always makes Adam laugh. "You always tell me." Then, Sauli leans into Adam's touch, and, almost shyly, adds, "Thank you."

"Thank _you_." He caresses Sauli's cheek, traces a delicate eyelid with the pad of his thumb, studies the curves of Sauli's lips with a light brush of his own. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he whispers, and Sauli's mouth falls open, ready, waiting. His breath is hot against Adam's skin, smelling of the sweet wine and spicy dark chocolate they'd shared and the subtle sharpness of smoke, addictive and intoxicating.

"I think so," Sauli replies.

Adam can't help himself. He gives those lips another kiss, slow and gentle, just a taste. Sauli moans quietly, low in his throat, and tangles his hands in Adam's hair, dragging him deeper. The ache of want deep inside squeezes tighter, and Adam savors it, chases the taste of Sauli's lips and the feel of their slick slide and the little noises he wrings from Sauli's throat. It is the greatest kind of high, powerful and heady and liberating, and he doesn't want to stop. Never wants to stop.

But he has work to do. Sauli has become his muse already, in music and in sex, but not like this. So, Adam pulls away, and reaches for the first of his tools—a big, soft makeup brush, and a compact filled with powder. Sauli's skin doesn't need much—something Adam envies sometimes, before mentally kicking his own ass—so Adam coats the brush lightly, then applies the powder in broad strokes over Sauli's cheeks and nose, featherlight and swift. He hardly has to urge Sauli to turn his head when needed. Even though this thing between them is still so new, so fragile, they barely need words to connect. Sauli can read him. Sauli _understands_.

Only when Adam is satisfied and has put the brush aside does Sauli lick his lips and swallow. Adam watches, transfixed by the small swipe of pink tongue and the movement of muscles in Sauli's throat. Sometimes, it seems anything Sauli does can captivate him. And Sauli knows. He gives Adam a wicked smile, and sits back in the chair, getting more comfortable.

"Cocky little fucker," Adam says. Sauli gives him an innocent look, all wide eyes and feigned purity, and Adam chuckles to himself. No matter what Sauli's face says, Adam knows Sauli absolutely _would_ do whatever it is that's going through his filthy mind right now. "I know what you're thinking."

"Oh?" Sauli says.

"Mm-hm. And it's really, really dirty, and you should be ashamed of yourself." Adam reaches for a tube of tinted lip balm. That's all he needs for this, a faint hint of color, because the eyes are what's important. As he drags the balm across Sauli's lips, a bare foot creeps up his leg, but Sauli's face hasn't changed. "Quit trying to distract me," Adam says, laughing, but he gets the makeup on without making a mess. He tucks the lip balm away, and puts his hands on his hips. "You are _terrible_. Trying to lure me into bed when you asked me to do this."

"I do not know what you are talking about." But the foot's still there, still stroking Adam's leg, moving higher and higher. "I'm not trying to lure you into bed." Sauli can rarely keep a straight face for long. He breaks into giggles, and grabs the front of Adam's shirt, pulling him in for a smacking kiss. Adam clings to him and kisses him back, deep and hard, and doesn't give a fuck about the fresh makeup they're ruining, not with Sauli's lips on his and Sauli's tongue doing _that._

When they pull apart, Sauli's lips are even redder than before, and Adam has to close his eyes and _breathe_ , or he will yank Sauli out of that chair, throw him down on the bed, and fuck him until they both hurt. Much as Adam wants to see Sauli in makeup and already loves putting it on him, Sauli is an incredibly bad influence—especially on Adam's cock. "You are seriously driving me crazy," Adam says, and Sauli laughs. "I'm not kidding. You're gorgeous, and I love you, but I _really_ wanna get this done. Can I?"

"Keep working your magic," Sauli says, and leans back in his chair, then adds, "I will be good," in a tone that implies he'll do no such thing. Ever.

Sauli proves it by grabbing a handful of Adam's ass when Adam briefly turns away, and Adam drops his latest brush and laughs. "No, really—if you keep this stuff up, then I'll _really_ fuck up," Adam chides, picking up the brush again, and a small pot of eyeshadow primer. "You don't want me to make you look like a zombie or something, do you?"

"Eh." Sauli shrugs. "You would still fuck me if my makeup was terrible." Sauli moves his hand between Adam's legs and gives his hard cock a gentle squeeze, and, God, Sauli's so fucking right. Adam groans, the want he'd pushed aside cast alight once more, and hot as his plan is, he's tempted once again to scrap the whole idea and fuck that smug look off Sauli's face. "You love me."

Sauli lets go, and Adam shuts his eyes and takes another long, deep breath, hoping to get his focus back. It's not an easy task, but he succeeds, concentrating on the image in his mind, reminding himself the results will surpass his imagination. "I do love you," Adam says, finally, and looks at Sauli again, trying to focus on Sauli's face, not the bulge in Sauli's shorts. "Now, close your eyes."

Adam wonders what it says about him that he misses those eyes as soon as they're closed. Probably that he's a complete sap—and he wouldn't deny it. But he can look at them again, and will, and they will stand out even more when he's finished. He has a plan, a vision. It's going to be perfect.

Once he gets started, the brush seems too impersonal, and he sets it aside when he's coated one eye. He uses his finger for the other, drags it slowly over the lid, making Sauli's breath catch as he covers the delicate skin with pale primer. The air hangs heavy between them, hot and electric, and the front of Adam's jeans is far too tight. Still, he takes his time— _has_ to take his time. It feels like something important might break if he doesn't.

He grabs a makeup remover towelette and wipes his fingertip clean, then thinks. Black. He'd pictured black, bold and swirling, making the pale blue of Sauli's eyes stand out. Black and silver. He could go wrong with neither, so he turns to grab his palette, and accidentally presses his cock against the table, just enough to make him groan. " _God_ ," he chokes out. It's fucking ridiculous, but he's close, so fucking _close_ , and he's not sure how much more he can take without losing it.

"Are you okay?" Sauli asks, and Adam can only hum his assent. _Fine_ , he thinks. _Just trying not to come in my pants like a teenager simply because you exist_.

His hand is shaking when he reaches for another brush, this one small and broad. He coats it with dark, shimmering powder, and swallows hard, trying to steel himself for waiting. Patience is not his friend tonight, but he's good at this. He can pull this off. He can resist just a little bit longer.

With another calming breath, he touches the brush to Sauli's skin, and he begins to paint. The shadow goes on smooth and easy, and though his nerves are thrumming and his clothes are suffocating, the glide of soft bristles over softer skin and the way his vision begins to unfold is entrancing. The world narrows to this, to them, to bright silver and gunmetal gray and deep, rich black. He strokes and he blends, focuses on this, loses himself to concentration instead of hot and desperate lust.

For now, he is an artist. He can be a boyfriend later.

"You're so perfect, baby," he murmurs, adding another shade of black to his work. "You're being so good."

Sauli grins. "I told you I would be," he says, and they settle into silence once more.

Adam finishes with the shadow, and grabs some liquid eyeliner. Both eyes are painted carefully, white fading seamlessly into silver, gray, and black, already dramatic and bold. This will make it even better. He traces the inky liquid across Sauli's eye with painstaking slowness, not wanting to slip even slightly, then drags it out past the corner, into a swooping, upturned swirl. "Open," he says, and lines the lower lid, connecting to the curling line, then fills the space between.

He does the same to the other eye, and, and when he's through, Sauli tries to peek around him, to see the mirror. "Can I look yet?"

"Not yet," Adam answers, searching for his new tube of mascara. He finds it, and holds it up with a triumphant, "Aha!" and a big grin. "Almost done!"

Finally. God, _finally_. In his excitement, he rips the protective plastic incompletely, and has to fumble to get the damn tube open, but he does. Forcing his giddy enthusiasm down, he coats Sauli's lashes, careful not to use too much. Done. He has to stab at the tube several times to slide the wand in and close it, and when he finally does, he tosses the mascara aside, steps out of the way, and, with a flourishing gesture toward Sauli's face, says, "Ta-da!"

Sauli's eyes go wide when he sees his reflection, and he leans in closer, getting a better look. "Whoa," he says, and turns to Adam. "This is..."

"You like it?" Adam bounces on his heels, awaiting Sauli's reply.

"Of course!" He hops up from the chair, and drapes his arms over Adam's shoulders, leaning in close. "It is intense," he says, and kisses Adam's lips. "Like you. I do not think I would wear it out, but—"

"But?"

Sauli grins, and sinks to his knees. "I think you will enjoy it more like this."

"I'm not sure I could enjoy it much more," Adam says, but then, Sauli unfastens Adam's jeans, and Adam nearly sobs with relief as Sauli pulls his cock free. Oh God, he's wrong about how much he could enjoy this, so incredibly, beautifully wrong. He gasps as Sauli's lips close around the tip of his cock, and he grips the edge of the makeup table so hard his fingers ache, throws his head back and makes incoherent noises as Sauli takes him in and _sucks_.

It's the most wonderful kind of torture, hot and tight and too fucking slow, even with Sauli sucking hard and fast and wet. A hand slides up Adam's thigh and slips into his jeans, wraps reverently around his balls, and begins to toy with them, strokes and gently squeezes, building the pressure of pleasurable need. Adam looks down, and he meets Sauli's eyes, eyes so wide and bright and dark, all contrasting colors and love and lust. And Sauli's making these _sounds_ , God, tiny, pleased hums as he licks and sucks and teases and drives Adam out of his fucking mind.

Adam can't breathe, can't speak, can't remember how. All he can do is _feel_ , feel the edge getting ever closer, feel the sweat dripping down his neck and the rocking table digging into his back and the cool air on his skin and that fucking mouth that just won't quit. His mind is a litany of _now, now, now, please, now, yes, please,_ urging his trembling body to just let _go_ , to let him come. He's almost there, ready, so fucking _ready_.

It still hits like a shock. One minute, he's silently begging, and then he's _there_ , overwhelmed. He falls back and clings to the table, letting out a long, low moan as he loses himself, relief and release crashing through his body. Sauli doesn't stop, keeps sucking and swallowing him down eagerly, keeps going until Adam is spent.

When Adam is through, Sauli lets him go, and, with a smirk, he tucks Adam back into his jeans. Adam whispers, " _Fuck_ ," and hismouth hangs open as he tries to breathe. "I...wow." With a laugh, he traces a thumb over Sauli's bottom lip, admiring the wet sheen over red skin. "That...whoa."

"It was what you were hoping, then?"

"Oh my God." Adam nods, hardly able to speak. "Oh my _God_."

"I make you crazy." Sauli's lips curve into a small, smug smile.

Finally, Adam manages what he hopes is a coherent sentence. "In all the best ways." Adam's got it _bad_ , he knows, and it's fucking amazing. "And I hope," he says, as he grabs Sauli under his arms and hauls him onto the bed, "that I make _you_ crazy, too?"

He doesn't give Sauli a chance to reply with words. Instead, he yanks off Sauli's shorts, then sinks between Sauli's legs and takes Sauli's cock in his mouth. Those shameless moans are all the answer he needs.

And if the makeup ends up far too smudged with sweat for a picture by the end, that's okay. There's always next time.


End file.
